


Stir

by scioubeez



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, Canon Universe, M/M, Miscommunication, Mutual Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, yeah and all that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:08:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27013276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scioubeez/pseuds/scioubeez
Summary: “I thought you didn't want to look at me when we do... this.”“What if I did?”
Relationships: Reiner Braun/Porco Galliard
Comments: 6
Kudos: 96





	Stir

He throws his head back on the pillow, staring at the open window and the starry sky outside, the streets of Liberio completely silent at night. It's the kind of quiet he needs right now, when there's too much noise in his head.

Despite himself, Porco looks back up: Reiner's lips are swollen with rough kisses, moonlight raining down on his bare skin, highlighting his sharp features. He's looking down at Porco with half-lidded eyes, breathing in and out at a slower pace than he should: normally he'd be a moaning mess, coming apart on the bed as Porco dictates the rhythm between their bodies.

Tonight is different, though.

There's no preparation, no clawing at clothes, Porco isn't tugging at Reiner's hair and Reiner isn't raking his nails down Porco's back, either: they're just writhing against each other, their lengths held together by Reiner's hand as he props himself up with the other one, and Porco lets him. He'd let his arms fall down at his sides before, not knowing what to do, where to touch; now though he's tracing a path with his fingertips down the side of Reiner's neck, sliding down his shoulder, his arm, then goes back up at an even slower pace, goosebumps blooming under his touch, all while never breaking eye contact with him, not even once.

Except a few seconds ago. But Reiner can forgive him for that, can't he? There's only so much of himself he can give, now. He should understand that.

Reiner breathes out, murmurs his name, arches his back: a shaky moan falls from Porco's lips as Reiner's hand slides faster on their lengths, _that's right_ , he snorts mentally, that's how it's supposed to be- fast, frantic, thoughtless release that ultimately does nothing to mend what's broken between them, and really, how stupid are they to even think it could work?

The weight of Reiner's body pins Porco down on the bed, and he welcomes it: he wants Reiner to take what he wants, for once, to lead as he's supposed to. They've got no need to savour the moment, no time for soft touches and for their gazes to meet and entangle and never let go, amber melting into darker, sharper amber- Porco curses out loud, joining Reiner's hand with one of his own, both of them tugging and pulling at each other with increasing speed, their moans chasing each other's as they find themselves unable to look away.

Porco breaks first, shuddering all over, throwing his head back again: the waves rolling beneath his skin elicit a strangled, longer moan out of him, and he opens his eyes, staring at the starry sky again.

For half a second and nothing more, he wishes they were still staring at each other, following Reiner's slow, half-hearted pace.

Reiner grunts loudly, exhaling as shivers run up and down his whole body, struggling to stay upright. He clears his throat, shifting aside to leave room for Porco in case he wants to leave now- a silent ritual they've perfected over the last few weeks. It helps with the awkwardness that comes after, somehow.

Now they're laying on Reiner's bed, next to each other, saying nothing at all as Reiner catches his breath and Porco keeps staring out the window, for no reason.

“It wasn't bad,” he mumbles eventually, perhaps a full minute after Reiner's started to stare at him for whatever reason. Maybe he's surprised Porco still hasn't left? He'll never know anyway.

Reiner clears his throat again, then settles for a low interrogative noise, rumbling at Porco's ears.

“What you were doing before, it wasn't... bad.”

This time, Reiner allows him a tired, short laugh. “I wasn't doing anything. I was just looking at you.”

Porco is grateful they do these things at night: it helps with covering up his stupid, very recent habit of getting flustered to the point his ears burn bright red. “Yeah, that's what I meant.”

The bed creaks under Reiner's weight as he shifts closer. “I thought you didn't like it. It's not something you do.”

Now it's Porco's turn to laugh. “I do look at people, instead. I do that all the time.”

“I didn't mean it like that.”

“So?”

Reiner clears his throat again before speaking, his voice lower, as if he were revealing a well-kept secret. “I thought you didn't want to look at me when we do... this.”

Porco looks away from the window, suddenly irritated by the night sky.

“What if I did?”

Out the corner of his eye, Porco can see Reiner lifting his arm, his hand running through his disheveled hair, and he wants to look, he really wants it, but he can't- fuck knows why.

“I'd understand,” is Reiner's answer, and Porco clicks his tongue, sitting up to go fetch his clothes, wherever he threw them when he came in before.

He wants things to change, honestly: the problem is, he doesn't know how to get to it. There's something missing, something Reiner isn't telling him- something that draws him to his room, most nights, to work around this issue, no matter what it takes, be it a rough fuck or the hundredth fight in a week.

It's a feeling he can't put into words, and every single time he finds himself knocking at Reiner's door with his boot, he wishes Reiner himself could find a solution to relieve both of them.

“You could stay here for a bit,” offers Reiner, not getting up from the bed. He's probably not even looking at him: Porco grabs his shirt from the ground with newfound irritation.

“Stop talking shit, you don't even mean it,” he shoots back, his voice cutting sharp in the quiet of the room. Reiner sighs, the bed creaking again as he gets up as well.

“You're not following me,” interjects Porco before he can even speak up, though he hopes, silently, that he would: just to see what would happen next, if anything's going to change or if the morning after they'll barely acknowledge each other's presence, again, just to fall into the same old trick at night, again, and again.

“I'm not,” complies Reiner, “I'm just getting dressed.”

Porco bites down on his lip to shut himself up, then slams the door on his way out, without looking back.

**Author's Note:**

> i actually wanted to write sappy lovey-dovey cuddly post-sex gallireis but... yeah. this tends to happen with them  
> the day i write something not-angsty on them is the day you'll know i've been kidnapped and replaced by a coffee shop au enthusiast


End file.
